Went out Sunday specifically to finish up Route 30 which has promiscuously overlapped other route runs around West Brom since starting this project at the New Year. Looking back over the 30, I only found two photos along the way with the first this now closed but formerly Halal abattoir in Harvill’s Hawthorn near Great Bridge.
One of the motivations for the Bus Run project has been to force exploration of the realm. I actually hit some road segments I have never been on before on the 4th of Feb and one of those passed the Bromwich Manor great hall built sometime in the late 13th-century (roughly 1270 ad). It’s now a museum run by the council from April till October every year so now I’ve got a new bit of historical tourism to do this Spring or Summer.
We had her just over 5 years but she was neglected and deserves better. I first test rode the Gazelle a week after putting in my notice at Oxford and, still a bit of hard work, I took her for one last spin the Friday after Thanksgiving whilst delivering her to a charity that fixes them up for refugees who need sturdy transport.
Along the canal journey, I worked out a few weather related hitches (the gear shift chain was a little rusty) and spotted some sites like the horse on the canal with the weird tower looming in the background. At home, I remembered to locate it and can kick myself for not going to inspect (I have another bike to drop off, so maybe then).
There was beer involved (of course) but the pub I most wanted to hit, the Staffordshire Knot, wasn’t open despite it being after published opening time. Still, I made it to the New Junction before and the Crown after so the holiday weekend ride wasn’t just for duty and honour.
We went to the Christmas Market the Sunday after Thanksgiving. It seemed like there were fewer stalls but no fewer people than years past. Same old crap for sale, though, so there’s that.
There was also an outrageous amount of — I’ll play along and call it — ‘food.’ Bratwurst, pastry, gingerbread, more pastry, some deep fried pastry, vegan bratwurst, and tons of beer and mulled wine to wash it down with.
We made one pass through the German Market then retreated to the one at the Cathedral where there were several bars (including one at the base of the Helter Skelter) and a lot more food but with a bit of variety up this way. The crap for sale in the stalls seemed slightly more interesting, too, but by then we had been through a number of Jaeger shots, some artisan gins, and some beer.
Just above that we spotted the Blue Plaque commemorating John Freeman. We didn’t know who he was and I haven’t yet found his books in libraries but when I do I’ll give an opinion.
Along the way we passed a Gurdwara occupying an old bus and tram depot and the adjacent Wolverhampton District Electrical Tramways power station, c 1902. This was the generator building for the tramlines back then although they were superceded by buses within a few years.
The local museum and library (probably where I’ll have to go for the Black Country Sketches and Stories noted above) is another fantastic building. The landlady at the Trumpet told us that Bilston was an affluent town and someplace truly special to visit when she was a child. You can pretty well imagine it from some of these buildings.
The Bradley family made galvanized buckets in their Beldray factory, here (now luxury flats). Odd things to note: the automobile in the logo has nothing to do with the output of the plant and the name, Beldray, is the dyslexic signature of one of the children of the founder.
This listed yet derelict school is heartbreaking to encounter and I would invest lottery money — if my numbers ever came in — converting it to our residence.
The walls seem structurally sound but you can tell it needs the entire interior and probably the roof replaced.
Eleven years older than our house, we would know what to expect in these voluminous confines.
I was in Wolverhampton for an appointment one afternoon in October and rounded out the day with a nice walk around areas I had not previously visited. The rain was cold and relentless but I persisted in chasing OS marks with little success but the rewards of some new landmarks.
A few paces from the so called National Spiritualist Church (the most impressive bit from the outside was the ironmongery) were the famous Steps to Nowhere, an architectural feature I have run up on several times in the West Midlands:
Both of these were across the road from the Billy Wright Stand of Molineux Stadium which sits in the campus of the University of Wolverhampton despite being dedicated to professional sport.
All of those features were near missing marks I sought out and somewhat remote from the solitary one I did find over on Great Western Street, a lonely lane near some factories.
But, I had things to do the rest of the afternoon (including a stop for some dry clothes) and the brutalist clock I spied on my way back to Wolverhampton Station reminded me of transience, actual and architectural. Even in this backward locality.
I’ve probably gone to the Gosta Green more frequently than the other bars in the area because it has an early license. This time, it was just for the Cut Mark at the Holt Street sign.
The only other mark this trip was on a wall next to Rio’s Peri Peri but in a nice early 20th Century block of offices:
The really nice bits this time revealed themselves (revealed, not exposed) at the late 19th Century Courts of Justice.
The details on these buildings really beg for more time than I had to spend there (and, speaking of time the magnificent clock was either 5 hours behind or 7 hours ahead):
The robes of Justice, herself, look like they would rustle if a wind blew by:
Fat little cherubs hold the whole filigreed structure aloft:
The Victoria entrance needs a bit more time to fish details out of, too.
Victoria looks warm and is flanked by partially clothed women and sits just above George slaying the Dragon. I don’t think the guy climbing the steps really stopped long enough to take this all in, but such is the nature of the business he’s probably in there to do.
I hopped off at Trinity Way tram stop to walk over to the Prince of Wales for a Friday afternoon pint. A quick consultation with my benchmark database directed me to Holy Trinity church which has a nice one just around the right from the front door:
There is supposed to be a Disc on this building, TP18401, which was the Premier Inn when we moved here but was a BT building sometime in the past. The Disc is almost certainly gone: they look only semi permanent as it is and would probably be removed during some cycle of roofing maintenance. There’s an article about Discs with a photo at this link; essentially, in sites where a bolt would have fucked up the roof they put down a blob of asphalt and stuck the bolt in it. There are only 129 UK-wide, so I’ll keep my eyes peeled.
Jackie spotted a small poster for a vintage furniture place (the Moseley Vintage Hub) near Bordesley Station and, since we need a piece to put our turntable on and store CDs within, we headed down on a Saturday, mid-July. We actually had success and it was delivered a week later, but we’ll definitely be back.
We killed a few minutes going through the vinyl there while a rain outbreak passed, then made our way to the Rainbow for a beverage. We passed an enormous wedding party at a big venue on the way then, as we prepared to turn to the pub I stopped for a Cut Mark I knew was close (another one, on the pub, turned out to no longer exist).
Refreshed, we headed back out and looped by the central bus garage, a magnificent and massive building.
Jackie was really taken with the heraldry above the bus door, pointing out art and industry having a lean against the shield of, perhaps, the monarch or maybe the City or the County. The arm and hammer out of the parapet remains a mystery but I’ll update this if we figure it all out. FORWARD!
Voce Books was our other target, a small independent shop hidden by the arches just down from the cop shop on Alison Street. We could have bought the entire inventory, but settled on a couple of tomes we both wanted to read.
My Cut Benchmark database was fucking with me. Ten marks in a row were missing (like the one that should be on the arch to the old Jewellery Quarter Fire Station but was probably polished off the stones during conversion to flats). Tsk.
Don’t get me wrong, it is divine to wander the JQ with your eyes tuned to fine detail. I found a shop that specialises in antique/recovered stained glass and some odd engineering bits like the 3″ cast iron (?) feature marked ‘Talisman’ above…I think it might be for structural stability.
My loop nearly complete the last targeted CM of the day, on the Cemetery Lodge near the Rose Villa Tavern, finally lent some joy. Success!
The car park to St Mary’s is long and tree lined and the tree tops sort of frame the church spire, and intersectional Tiangulation Point (#19616). Looks like good use is made of the car park at least one day per year:
The grounds are lovely. “The space whereon thou standest is Holy Ground. It is also sacred to the dead whose bodies rest here. Try and speak and act reverently in it. It is a sanctuary for birds. Help to keep it and cherish the flowers. This is God’s Acre.”
The Cut Mark is on the NW buttress. Something primordial in me wants to giggle at Cut Mark on Butt, but that would not be solemn.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 
